You Are My World
by blossomofsnow65
Summary: Bridget finally gets her wish come true and goes to Bangor University. There, she meets arrogant and haughty Mark Darcy and she can't help but question her life choices. / I'm horrible at summaries, by the way.
1. CH1 Bridget's POV

Bridget had been waiting for this moment her whole life: college. She wasn't the best student of her class; she considered some of her classes to be irrelevant, so she didn't bother in studying hard. Yet, there was one subject that she had loved her whole life and excelled in it: English. Her love for books had started when her father read Dr. Seuss to her every night before going to bed, and before she knew it, she was reading books from great authors, her favourite being "Wuthering Heights" which she read every Christmas.

She remembers the day that she got that big envelope which determined her future as if it was yesterday. Bridget arrived home after school and saw her mother, Pam Jones, holding the brown paper rectangle, smiling. Her face turned white with mixed emotions: she was nervous, anxious, scared, happy. With shaky hands, she took the envelope from her mother's hands, took a deep breath and opened it. Her eyes were wide-open once she saw her fate: she got into Bangor University. Bridget and her mother started crying with joy, hugging each other and jumping up and down. Once her father, Colin Jones, was informed about the good news, he left work and rushed home immediately.

The very next day, family members and friends gathered around for a celebratory party at Bridget's home. "Oh, Bridget! What a joy! Now, let's see if you catch a man at Bangor, eh?" her Auntie Una Alconbury said. She and her Mum were determined in finding Bridget a husband ever since she was 12 when she introduced to them her first boyfriend. All she could do was just laugh at her comment. She wasn't going to let her Mum's closest friend ruin her night.

Her best friends – Tom, Jude and Shazzer – finally arrived and took her outside to rest from all the congratulations she was receiving. Shazzer even managed to steal a small bottle of vodka from her parent's cabinet and they drank the liquid with gusto. The alcohol burned her throat, but after a few shots, she didn't feel anything. Bridget removed a packet of cigarettes from her dark blue jeans and smoked two.

She was well into her third one when she heard her mother calling out to her. "Yoo-hoo, Bridget! There's someone here that wants to speak to yooooouuuuuuu." Her mother exclaimed. Bridget threw her cigarette to the ground and put a Cool Mint Listerine in her mouth to cover the alcohol and nicotine smell.

"Yes, mother?"

"Elaine and Malcolm Darcy are here! Such a shame they couldn't bring Mark. He's in Cambridge, you know? Studying Law." Pam gushed.

"Bridget. Congratulations on getting into Bangor. Wales is such a long way from home, but it's so nice to see you pursue your dream." Elaine Darcy was actually a sweet lady, and Admiral Darcy was serious, but pleasant. He also congratulated her, shaking her hand. "Well done, young lady." He said in a firm tone of voice. She smiled and thanked them.

"Pam, I just had a fantastic idea!" Auntie Una ran to her Mum, "we should introduce Bridget to Mark! Such a lovely, fellow. I think you'd like him very much, Bridge."

"Oh, Una! That's such a fantastic idea! How haven't I thought about it before!" The Darcy's left the scene as soon as they saw Una approaching, knowing the nonsense she was going to say. Una and Pam got lost into their fantasy and were already planning Bridget and Mark's wedding when her father approached her.

"I've always dreaded these things." He said, holding a glass of whiskey in a hand and a cigarette on the other. Bridget had the urge of grabbing it off his fingers, but stopped midway; no one knew her little secret.

"Well, you know Mum. She always loved showing off and finding an excuse to have a party. I always think the annual Turkey Curry Buffet is enough, but clearly I'm wrong." She chuckled and her father gave her the same response.

"There she is! My little Bridget!" Her Uncle Geoffrey, Una's husband, danced towards her, completely pissed. He always grabbed her arse and insisted on being called Uncle, which was pretty gross and perverted, and asked the dreaded question everyone ask her: _"Oh, Bridget, 18 years-old and still single? Tsk, tsk, tsk." "Bridget, how can that be! By the time I was 18 I already had three boyfriends!"_

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder which startled her. "Bridge, come outside with us." Tom said, completely plastered. She followed him to the same spot where they did their shameful smoking and drinking.

By midnight, everybody had left except Tom, who insisted in staying when Shazzer and Jude left to go to a bar and keep drinking, and was now sleeping on the couch. She covered him with a comfy white blanket and gave him a peck on the cheek. Tom stirred and said, sleepily and drunk "Bridge, don't try to get me turned on. You know I play for the other team."

Colin appeared from behind and told her, "Bridget, let him spend the night her, he's obviously out like a light." Bridget laughed and stood up. She headed towards the stairs when she heard her father say, "Puppet, I'm so proud of you."

Bridget smiled and ran up her stairs, exhausted. She laid on her bed and smiled. Her dreams were finally coming true, and, who know, maybe she will find her knight in shining armour. All she could do was hope.


	2. CH2 Mark's POV

Mark was the best student in his class; in fact, he was about to graduate with honours from Cambridge University. He had always wanted to make a difference in the world, to bring peace to everyone, and that's why he got into Human Rights Law: it was his passion. He studied hard his whole university life and it payed off. He was following his career the correct way, while some of his mates had fallen behind.

He didn't excel in the love department. He had just broken up with his girlfriend, an exchange student from Japan. Daniel Cleaver, his best friend, had caught her with an American while Mark was visiting his parents for Christmas. This broke his heart, but not in a devastating, crushing way. He was hurt, but deep down he felt it coming.

Summer had gone by in the blink of an eye, and before he knew it he was on his last year of Cambridge. All of his other classmates were enjoying their last moment of "freedom" before facing the real world, but Mark was concentrating more on his future than on his present; every time he felt the urge of throwing his books in the fireplace and celebrating with his friends that the sun came out, his father's voice would pop up in his head: _"Mark, my boy. Remember your responsibilities. A man has to bring food on the table for his family, and that can only be attainable with work, and work is attainable through studying. Never forget that your hard work will pay off in a wonderful future."_

It was Saturday afternoon and he had a History mid-term on Monday. Mark looked out the window and he saw his friends laughing and pushing each other playfully. His lips turned into a smile and he chuckled, shaking his head. Just as his eyes started to read a paragraph on slavery, his dorm's door opened, the doorknob hitting the wall hard.

"Darce!" Daniel Cleaver yelled with a beer in his hand. Mark got up quickly and let him in, desperately hoping that no one had heard or seen Daniel's act. He closed the door, and when he turned around his best friend was sitting on his desk chair, going through his notes.

"Daniel, please don't spill any beer on my books." He said in a serious and strict tone with a hint of desperation and beg.

"Oh, come on, Darcy. Loosen up a bit. It's our last year in this prison we call University. Everyone's outside totally pissed, having fun, checking out girls while you are up here in your room being a total bookworm. Have you always been this boring?" Cleaver replied. Mark thought he'd seen a hint of annoyance starting to appear on his face, but wasn't sure. Mark just stood there, hands in his robe pockets, staring at him, thoughtful.

Following his silence, Cleaver spoke again, "Look, Darce. We are all going punting on the River Cam." Mark's eyebrow raised so high that it almost got tangled with his curly hair. "Punting is not only for taking ladies on romantic dates hoping to fuck at the end of the night." Mark laughed at his comment and nodded in agreement. "It's boring as fuck when one's sober, but with drunk friends? My boy, you are in for a good one." Daniel finished his statement by drinking the rest of his beer. He set the bottle down on the desk, close to Mark's books. He gasped silently with his eyes wide open, knowing that by the closeness of the bottle, the condensation running down it would fall onto his books.

"Daniel, I'd love to. But I have to study for a History mid-term and I can't afford any distractions, especially if it involves alcohol." He pointed to the bottle and Daniel grabbed it and threw it out of the window towards one of his friends. "Oi! What the fuck?" He heard his friend yell and Mark laughed.

"Do whatever you want, Darcy. You can sit here on your boring well-mannered-British arse, wearing your matching beige flannel pyjamas and robe, or you can come with us and have fun. We'll be downstairs shooting some pool. We're leaving at 6 pm. I expect to see you there, otherwise I'll come back, grab you by the curls and throw your books in the river." And with that, Daniel left.

Mark was seriously tempted. He almost followed him to the rec room, but his father's voice kept popping in his head. Still, it was his last year and despite Admiral Darcy's voice tormenting Mark, he really wanted to have fun. He changed from his mocked attire to a pair of beige trousers and a white shirt; and with that, he left for the rec room.

All of his friends were delighted, yet surprised to see Mark leaving his books behind. One of his friends brought more beer and a bottle of whiskey, while another put the radio on loud. Mark took a bottle of beer and took a sip. At that moment, he made a personal vow to drink no more than two bottles of beer, but before he knew it, he had already drank four bottles and a glass of whiskey in one hand.

Completely pissed, they all walked to the River Cam. When they got there, they saw a small group of girls waiting in line for a punt to come along. "Hey!" Daniel yelled at them. The four girls turned around and looked at the completely drunk group. They laughed, maybe some rolled their eyes, and then turned back around to continue with their chat. Daniel started to walk towards them, but Mark stopped him by grabbing his arm. He knew that Daniel wouldn't hurt them or anything, but a drunken Daniel was dangerous. After all, he did get his arse kicked a few times for crossing the line while drunk.

"Oh, come on, Darce. I'm not going to do anything to them. Just a little chat." Daniel slurred. Mark was still grabbing his arm tightly, but Daniel didn't seem to recognise the pain shooting up and down his arm from Mark's tight grip.

Jeremy, Mark's friend whom he met on the first day of Cambridge and remained close friends ever since, approached them and told Cleaver that if he wanted to chat with the girls, who were now leaving with a punter standing at the back of the punt, he should, but sober. A punt came along and they got in it. They headed over to the first bridge, and soon enough the girls' punt was next to them.

"Hello, little ladies," Daniel slurred. All girls but one ignored him. "You know, Marvin here isn't the only one who can punt, ya'know?" Daniel said, pointing with his beer at the nice man standing at the back of the punt.

"I honestly doubt that. Especially if you're drunk." One of the girls, probably one who had rolled her eyes, said with a scoff.

Jeremy sighed, chuckled, and his hand met his face in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, ladies. We're about to graduate and we're celebrating. Unfortunately, my friend here is having too much fun." Daniel grinned drunkenly and eyed a blonde girl with blue eyes who has looking at him playfully.

"It's fine. We totally understand. There's no harm in having a little fun, plus you're about to start a whole new chapter of your lives. We're here on holidays, and we just found out what Universities we've been accepted to. I'm Magda, by the way." The girl with red hair informed the group. Jeremy was completely smitten with her, probably love at first sight. She was eyeing at him the exact same way, and Mark couldn't help but smile.

"Well, isn't that exciting. Any of you attractive babes attending Cambridge?" Daniel slurred.

"Not quite. We're mainly staying at the London area." Another girl answered.

By the time they stopped chatting, the punting ride was over. Daniel suggested continuing the night at a bar, to which all of the girls agreed. Mark, however, already drunk, but drunk enough to know his boundaries, decided to pass and return to his dorm.

"Oh, come on, Darcy. Don't be such a goody good. Have some fun with our new friends. They say they have this friend called Bridget something, and that she'll be arriving anytime soon. You really need some shagging, especially since that Japanese girl cheated on you, and you need to let all of that stress out. Just one shagathon with this girl. What do you say?" Daniel wiggled his eyebrows and Mark glanced at the group of girls. He took a step forward, convinced by Daniel's encouragement – he'll probably pass on the shagathon –, but, just as Daniel was about to start clapping and yelling, Admiral Darcy's voice came to Mark's head. He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Cleave. Maybe some other time. I've already had too much to drink, and if I keep going on I'm not going to make it."

"Whatever." Daniel muttered and headed towards his friends. Mark looked at them apologetically and headed towards his dorm.

Too drunk to keep studying, he laid in bed, not even bothering on changing into his old man pyjamas, as Daniel had once described them in the past.

 _You know what?_ He thought. _I should have some fun. It is my last year and the only thing I've done is bust my arse studying. Reminiscing my Cambridge years what will my memories be? Me locked up in my room or in a library silent room studying?_

Mark picked up his phone and called Daniel. "Where are you? I'm joining you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Upon entering the pub, Mark almost regretted going back to his friends. The music was too loud, everyone was even more drunk than before. He just had to suck it up and force himself to enjoy his night out. _Leave the old man inside you in your dorm. Today you are young Mark Darcy who doesn't care that the music is blasting through the speakers and damaging your eardrums. Who cares?_

"Mark! You made it!" Jeremy, who was talking to Magda, announced, yelling.

"Darce! You left your flannels and came. Not sexually." Daniel yelled just as the song that was playing stopped before moving on to the next one. Mark's cheeks turned a red as everyone laughed, but he shook it off, drunk enough not to care. His best friend went over to him with a bottle of beer and a glass of whiskey and told him to drink them all. And that he did.

Mark noticed that there was something off about the group of girls. And suddenly it hit him; they were outnumbered. They now had another member on their group. _Probably that Bridget girl_ , Mark thought.

He started to walk towards his friends, but stopped midway, caught off guard by what he had just seen.

The most beautiful woman turned around, offering tequila shots to her friends.

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen; blonde; big, blue eyes; not too skinny, not too big – just perfect.

The most beautiful woman in the world who had just spotted him looking at her with his mouth open, and smiled at him.

The most beautiful woman in the world: that Bridget girl.


	3. CH3 Bridget's POV

"Hey! Pretty blonde! Get on with it and give me that shot." Daniel yelled at her through the loud music. Bridget had seen Mark staring at her and she couldn't help but smile and stare back. Sure, he looked ten years older with his beige pants and white shirt tucked in, but she still found that there was something in him that intrigued her.

 _Stop staring, you idiot._ Her smile never leaving her face – and her eyes never leaving his beautiful brown eyed gaze -, she handed Daniel his shot and waved at Mark to join them. And that he did without hesitation.

"Want a shot?" Bridget blurted out. _Couldn't say 'hi' first, huh?_ She could see that he was debating whether or not accepting her offer – _maybe thinking of an excuse to haul arse after my lack of introduction_ -, so she added, "it's premium tequila. My treat."

"That would be lovely. Thank you…"

"Bridget." She smiled and handed him the tequila. He rose his glass as if he were making a toast and she mirrored him, raising an eyebrow and laughing. As soon as she finished with her shot, Bridget scrunched her face, the alcohol burning her throat as it went down. "Gah! It burns like fuck, but it's so good." She sucked on a lemon and motioned the bartender for another one. He found Bridget's scrunched up face to be adorable. She looked like a 15 year-old who had just started drinking. Like a 15 year-old who had snuck into her father's cabinet and stolen the tequila he had stored in there since before she was born.

Mark, on the other hand, had no reaction. Tequila didn't leave a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach, but it felt as if he were drinking water. The kind of water that made you vomit and have a hangover the next day.

"Usually people lick some salt off their wrists before taking the shot." Mark offered, trying to make the next shot more pleasant for her, yet secretly hoping that that adorable face would show up again.

"I've tried that, but I found that it burns even more. At least in my case." She handed him another shot and, as she was paying for the alcohol, Mark interjected.

"You paid for the last one. This one's on me."

"Oh. Well if this is how it's going to be all night, then we're going to get super drunk." Bridget squealed as she let the liquid burn her throat again.

Mark smiled. This girl basically told him that she wanted to hang out with him all night. And who was he to deny a lady's wish?

Suddenly, he didn't care about his midterm anymore.

Xxxxx

The pub started to get more and more packed, and the bar was full of drunk teens yelling their orders. Some looked completely wasted, and Bridget thought that what they should probably ask for was an aspirin and a bed instead of another whiskey.

Her friends started to pair up with boys: Magda was drinking on a booth with one of Mark's friends, while the others were snogging in an inappropriate manner. Even for Bridget.

Mark had suggested they'd move to a quieter place after he payed for all of the tequila shots. He was starting to get tipsy again, but Bridget was full on drunk. Although she wasn't walking in zig-zags, she knew that if he'd pay for one more drink, he'd be the sorry bastard who would hold her hair while she emptied her stomach.

As they were walking around campus, Bridget stopped and looked at him with her index finger on her chin. "Wait a minute… all this time we've been drinking, talking and walking and not once have you told me your name." She crossed her arms as she playfully chastised him and, Mark put his hands in his pocket.

"Mark Darcy." He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Darcy. Darcy. Why did that name sound so familiar? "Elaine and Admiral Darcy's son?" Bridget gasped and stared at him with wide eyes, completely taken aback by the identity of her companion.

"The one and only."

"I'm Bridget Jones. Pam and Colin's daughter?" Mark looked at her as if trying to remember her. And he was, he was trying so hard. "Are you kidding me? I used to play naked around your paddling pool?" Something clicked in Mark's head and his eyes gave it away. _Bingo_ , Bridget thought. _Leave it to a guy to remember a lady for her nakedness._

"That's right! I haven't seen you for a while, I'm sorry I didn't remember you right away." Mark looked at the floor nervously and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

"It's okay. Lots of men only remember me when I tell them that they saw me naked." Bridget smiled raising an eyebrow and Mark snapped his head towards her in astonishment. She guffawed, throwing her head back and holding her stomach as if it were about to separate itself from her body. "Relax, I'm just teasing you. Or am I?" She wiggled her eyebrows and continued walking. Mark smiled and looked at her lovingly. God, she was funny.

"So, Bridget. What brings you here?" Mark changed the subject and she looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"I came with some friends to celebrate our acceptances to University. You were invited to the party my parents held, but you didn't come. I got accepted to Bangor which is sort of a big deal, I've always wanted to go there. So you missed quite a party." She reminded, pouting. She loved teasing him and she wanted to make sure he knew it. _Suffer, bastard._

Mark froze and cleared his throat; she laughed an evil laugh mentally. They started to get closer and closer towards Mark's dorm and his pace became slower with each passing second. He didn't want this night to end, even though the sun was starting to come up.

Bridget looked at him expecting an answer, but gave up when he didn't say anything after a few moments. She chuckled and shook her head. "God, my feet are killing me. And I'm not even wearing heels, these are Chucks for fuck's sake." She held on to Mark for support and something inside him stirred. With her other hand, she started to take her shoes off.

"Would you like me to hold them for you? I have to make up for not going to your party." Mark offered with a sheepish smile.

 _I found my own Mr. Darcy_! She thought.

"Wow, aren't you a gentleman. Are you sure you didn't jump off an 1800's novel?" Both of them laughed and Bridget continued, "besides, it's not necessary. You payed for all the drinks." She straightened up and Mark grabbed the shoes from her hand.

"It's no bother at all." He smiled at her. "My dorm's right over there, so it won't be a long walk." He pointed the direction with her shoes.

"Oh?" _Does he want me to come up with him or does he plan on ditching me here?_

"Want to come up? I have a midterm in a couple of hours, but you can stay for a while until you have to go to the train station."

Bridget squinted her eyes at him playfully and looked up at the already blue sky as if in thought. "Hmm.. maybe." _Suffer, bastard_. Mark looked at her, pleading. She grinned and walked towards his dorm.

Having taken off her shoes, she was now stepping on her dungarees. As she was talking to Mark about midterms and what she loves most about Mr. Darcy, she tripped on her own clothing, almost meeting the ground. Mark steadied her and she let out a breath of relief. Without giving it a second thought, Mark grabbed her by her knee pits and held her in his arms in one swift movement. "Oh!" Bridget yelped. _Talk about sweeping me off my feet._

They both laughed and she kicked her legs.

 _I've definitely found my Mr. Darcy._

XXXXXX

AN: Hi! I'm sorry I've kept you waiting. I'm not so sure as to when I'll be able to publish another chapter cause I'm super busy with Uni and I'm currently writing a lot of one-shots which are much easier and faster for me. But fear not! Cause I am NOT abandoning this story, I love it too much and I won't let my laziness win over Mark and Bridget.

Also, I'm more active on ao3, so look me up there under the same name. But I'll still publish the chapters here! So bear with me, cause this ride is not over yet.

No beta, so sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes.

Follow me on tumblr if you'd like to: blossom-ofsnow

Love,

S.


	4. Chapter 4 MPOV

She didn't stay much long. Not because they didn't want to be together much longer. Because they did. But Bridget had agreed to meet her friends at the train station at 8am and Mark had his mid-term at 9am. The bloody mid-term.

If the Admiral knew that he had spent the night before the thing that would determinate his future drinking and hanging out with a girl, he would disown him. But he didn't regret it. Not for one minute.

Shortly after arriving at his dorm, Bridget had left. They talked about nothing and everything, as they say. She told him about her passion for literature, he told him about his passion of helping people and finding a way to do so by becoming a Barrister, to which she found inspiring. He, on the other hand, found her love for romance novels adorable, even more so because she was convinced that real life was the same.

He felt terrible that he missed the party her parents had thrown when she got accepted to Bangor, her dream University as she confessed. _If Cleaver new she wanted to study English at Bangor he would roll his eyes and laugh his arse off_ , he thought. But how could he tell her that he skipped it because he didn't want to celebrate a life-long achievement with a girl he barely knew without hurting her feelings? His friends – and, if he had to be honest, some girls – told him that sometimes he comes out as a cold person with a hot poker up his arse; and he liked this Bridget girl. He thought she was a keeper, and he didn't want to upset her the one night they got to spend together.

Being true to the gentleman that he is, he accompanied her to the train station. All of her friends were waiting for her and, shortly after, they kissed goodbye on the cheek – although he wished he had kissed her fully on her perfect lips –, she wished him good luck on his test, he retaliated by doing the same with the new chapter in her life, and with that, she left.

Feeling gloomy, he went to take his final mid-term.

Xxxxxx

He didn't mean to brag, but he aced that sucker. The Admiral would be proud.

And he was. He called him as soon as he got to his dorm and his father congratulated him as he would. "My boy, this is the first day of the rest of your life. You've worked hard and it payed off."

"Thank you, Father." He simply thanked as he yawned, which didn't go unnoticed by his father.

"Have you not slept well? If you hadn't got a good night's sleep then I'm not so sure you did very well." The Admiral chastised.

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in tired frustration. "No, no, I did. It's just that the test was tiring and I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders." He quickly dismissed as a yawn threatened to escape his lips again. He was sitting on the bed and it was hard not to lie down and rest his back. After three hours of maintaining a sitting position and standing up all night, his back was killing him.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I'll let you get back to your things. We're very proud of you, son."

"Thank you." He said again and his father replied with a "mm-hm" before hanging up.

Mark fell back on his bed and fell asleep.

Xxxxx

Later that day, Mark met Jeremy at the rec room. He was surprised to see girls standing by the pool table or playing with the various arcade games, given that girls weren't allowed at the building. Yet, he was even more surprised that Cleaver was nowhere to be seen.

 _Probably sleeping off a wicked hangover._

"How was the test?" Mark asked as he took a sip of water.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows in amusement and smirked. "You're seriously asking me about the test and not swimming in this sea of girls, Darce? Live a little, will you? Soon we'll be gone. Your old girlfriend's probably sleeping with other men, you should move on and sleep with young ladies."

It was Mark's turn to raise his eyebrows in confusion. Jeremy simply shrugged and chugged his beer.

"About that…" Mark started, scratching the back of his head and looking down at the floor. _How do I ask about Bridget without sounding awkward?_

"What, Darcy?" Jeremy asked after Mark backed out of talking. He meant to encourage him, but his tone suggested a hint of annoyance.

"How'd it go with that girl yesterday?" Mark decided to change the subject and not face his interests head on. He might be a handsome man, but he wasn't one for romantic declarations or gestures; and he was definitely not the kind who asked people for dating advice. He just dealt with it himself or let it consume him, leading to an eventual break up.

Mark's thought's came to a halt when he saw Jeremy's expression change from the one of a horny/player 20-something year-old, to the expression of a teenager in love. "Oh, Magda. She's amazing. She's going to be a teacher, moulding tiny brains into bright ones." There was a spark in his eyes that made Mark feel jealous. Never in his life had he experienced something like that, not even for his Japanese-ex. Although, he was starting to have a little twinkle for Bridget.

"She seemed like a nice girl." Mark smiled.

"That she is. Plus, she's a redhead. And you know what they say…" Mark looked confused and shrugged. "They're crazy." Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows and Mark laughed.

Hearing him talk about what seemed to be the love of his life gave Mark the courage to talk about the possible – if not the most likely – love of _his_ life – to Jeremy, only that the moment of slight bravery was interrupted when a girl shouted in anger at an arcade game and kicked it, breaking the machine. Her snap caught the attention of the residents of the building who snapped back at her. Jeremy laughed at them.

"So, what about you and that blonde girl?" Jeremy asked, startling Mark.

"Oh, Bridget. She's nice." Mark simply said. _She's more than nice_ , he thought. _She's the sweetest person and funniest person I've ever met._

"Yeah, Magda told me about her. She was babbling at one point that she was so happy Bridget's with someone. Apparently she had a boyfriend a few years ago and hasn't quite gone back to the dating world." Jeremy informed.

"Oh. She didn't say anything of the sort to me." He said with a bit of disappointment. Why should he feel disappointed, though?

 _Why couldn't she have had a boyfriend before you did, idiot? You sure as hell had a girlfriend before. Why the fuck are you disappointed for?_

The commotion by the arcade game had settled and the girl moved on to another one, this time with the supervision of three boys. Which she didn't appear to mind, nor did the boys appear to mind being next to her.

"Are you going to see her again?"

"I'd love to, but she didn't leave any contact information, and she's leaving for Bangor in a few months."

"Well, don't your parents know hers? Call them and ask for her phone number." Jeremy suggested matter-of-factly and looked at him. Mark pondered on this and his face lit up. Jeremy smiled and patted his shoulder, setting his beer bottle on the pool table behind them and walked towards an arcade game.

Mark walked so quickly to his dorm that he might as well have been running.

Xxxxx

"Darling, why do you need the Jones's phone number and home address for?" His mother asked.

"I wanted to apologise for skipping the party. It was rude and I should've gone. You didn't raise a man who skips events for his own selfish reasons, so I felt it right to offer them my forgiveness." Mark lied. He was playing with the chord of his phone and closing his eyes, deep in concentration of how else he could unfold this web of lies.

"Oh, well. That's very nice of you, Mark. I'm sure Pam will be delighted you called. And I guarantee she'll want to set you up with her lovely daughter." Mark chuckled softly. If only she knew…

"Thank you, Mother. I'll try not to give in to her desires."

"I've got the contact information right next to me. You have something to write it down on?"

Mark never jolted something so fast – and so messy – before in his life.

Xxxxx

It felt as if he had been travelling for hours when in reality, he had been on the train for just five minutes. After hanging up with his mother, he started dialling Bridget's number, but suddenly refrained from doing so. He remembered that one of the things he didn't like about himself – and that his previous girlfriends had accused and left him for – was that he didn't do romantic gestures. It wasn't intentionally: he simply didn't know how to do them.

Instead, he decided to jump on a train that weekend and surprise her at her house. And that he did.

He arrived at Grafton Underwood and he realised that he might've just called before, because maybe no one was home. His worries were put at ease almost instately though when he got closer to the Jones's residence and saw a blonde girl move around the house in her pyjamas.

Mark smiled and walked with more purpose.

Upon reaching her front door, he rang the doorbell and braced himself. The door opened and Bridget jumped slightly back, taken aback. Mark found her adorable, however. She looked as if she had just woken up with her wrinkled light blue pyjamas, her hair as if it had had a fight with the pillow, her bunny slippers and her squinting eyes.

"Oh, my God. Mark?" Bridget said after a few moments with a hand on her hand.

"Surprise." He said in his monotonous voice, even though he was trying hard to sound nonchalant.

"What are you doing here?" She released a breath neither she nor he realised she had been holding, and smiled.

"Beautiful day." He acknowledged looking at the bright blue sky.

Bridget stared at him gobsmacked. "Yes, it is. I'm sorry, did you come here to talk to me about the weather?"

Mark laughed.

 _God, she's beautiful_.

"No, no. I came here as a romantic gesture." Mark shook his head and looked at the floor sheepishly.

"Oh. Okay?"

He took a deep breath and tried to say the following word with little awkwardness as possible, "go out with me?"


End file.
